


More Than Okay

by wood_originals



Series: Safe House [1]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Come Eating, F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:33:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25601404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wood_originals/pseuds/wood_originals
Summary: Tara, Jax and Juice find themselves in a safe house for some reason or another. Juice tries not to listen to them through the thin walls, and Tara pays him a visit out on the couch.
Relationships: Tara Knowles/Juice Ortiz
Series: Safe House [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855558
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	More Than Okay

The safehouse was a squat, one floor, one bedroom house about two hours outside of Charming. The air inside felt stale, an even layer of dust collected on all the furniture. As the three of them walked around the house, Jax was the first to speak. “Well, it’ll do. I’m going to grab the bags, and then take a shower.”

Juice and Tara were left standing in the small living room. Juice grinned at Tara, gesturing towards the sinking couch with his thumb, “What do you think the chances are that’s a pull out?”

Tara took a step towards him, resting her hand on his cheek. She smiled gratefully at him, “I’ll set you up, sweetheart. Thank you for coming.”

Jax came back in the front door, dropping the bags in a heap and locking the door carefully behind him. He looked up at the two of them, and Juice jumped back with a laugh, quickly making his way over to Jax and grabbing the bags from the floor.

“We good?” Jax said to Tara, stopping in front of her on his way to the bathroom. He put his hands on her hips, drawing her close, kissing her deep.

Tara was a little breathless when she replied, pressing their foreheads together. “Yeah, Jackson, we’re good.”

Juice watched Tara as she watched Jax retreat to the bathroom. When Tara turned to look at him, Juice dropped a bag on his foot, swearing and jerking backwards. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. He forced a laugh, a loud, awkward sound. “I got it, don’t worry.”

Tara bit her lip and shook her head at him, turning away to go into the kitchen, plugging in the fridge and wiping down the counters.

Juice tossed his bag onto the couch, watching with resignation as it sank into the cushion, and then carried the rest of the bags into the bedroom for Jax and Tara. The bathroom was connected to the bedroom, and the door hung half open, the clear curtain doing nothing to hide Jax’s body from view.

He shook his head, moving back out to the kitchen to help Tara clean up.

It was an ongoing joke in the club that when things fell apart, Jax and Tara fell together. They’d spent their fair nights at Jax’s bedroom in the club house, and people noticed that the more stressed Jax was, the more often they snuck off together.

Juice didn’t realize how true the joke was until that first night.

Jax and Tara finally headed off to bed around 11:30, and Juice laid down on the old couch. Tara had set him up, as promised, made the couch up like a bed, clean sheet tucked over the ugly floral cushions and everything.

In the kitchen, the old refrigerator hummed. The wind rattled against the windows. And it didn’t take long for the rhythmic sounds to start behind the closed bedroom door, the creaking of the old bed frame, murmured words and panting moans.

Juice threw his arm over his face, feeling his cheeks go pink. He had lived in close quarters before, he wasn’t shy about sex, but something felt… weird. He felt like he was being intrusive by listening to them, though there wasn’t any real way he could help it.

It also didn’t help that they didn’t know how long they’d be at the safe house for. They had a burner phone to keep in touch with the club, but until the problem was sorted, the three of them were out of the action. Jax and Tara had each other, and the slight privacy of the bedroom door, but Juice was stuck laid out on the couch.

He kept his eyes closed, arm over his face, and tried his best to focus on the sound of the wind instead of the soft, breathy sounds he assumed were from Tara, tried his best to ignore the way his pants felt tight against him, constricted in more ways than one.

It didn’t really work.

Somehow, he must have dozed off, because the soft click of a door opening woke him up, and he sat up quickly, blinking and looking around for trouble.

He expected trouble in the form of a rival gang member, but what he saw was Tara, softly lit in yellow light from the kitchen, wearing the shirt Jax had gone to bed wearing not long before, her dark hair mussed and her makeup removed.

She was gorgeous. But she was always gorgeous, Juice reminded himself sternly, and she was Jax’s old lady, and he was supposed to be keeping them safe.

Tara kept walking towards him, so he shifted over to one side of the couch, making room for her. She smiled gently, all the way up to her eyes like she was actually happy to see him, so Juice smiled back at her.

“Sorry, I hope we didn’t keep you up,” she said, voice low but not overly quiet. “And that you’re out here on this couch. It can’t be comfortable.”

“Ah, I’ve slept on worse,” Juice said easily, shrugging.

“I asked Jax if you could be our third, up here. He said we needed someone, and I asked for you,” she said, reaching out and laying her hand over his. Something about her tone sounded practiced, almost like a teacher, words carefully laden with meaning.

Juice had never been great in school.

“Well, happy to help!” Juice reassured her, pulling his hand out from under hers to fidget with his own shirt, his eyes drifting down to hers slightly.

When he dragged his glance back up to her face, she was biting her bottom lip, smile still playing on her lips. “Listen, I’m going to ask if you want to do something. And if you don’t want to, that’s fine, I don’t want you feeling you have to go along with anything. I’m just asking because I want it.”

Juice cocked his head to the side slightly, eyebrows drawing together. He waited patiently for her to continue, though curiosity and a bit of worry tugged at the edges of his mind.

“Do you want to go down on me?” Juice felt his eyes going comically wide, and Tara’s face scrunched up like she was trying not to laugh. “Jax finished inside me, and I just kind of want… and he’s sleeping. And I’m telling you it would be okay, if you want to.”

“Yes,” Juice said quickly, his mind catching up to her words, almost cutting off the end of her sentence when he agreed. “I mean. Wait. You would be okay with it, or… Jax would be okay with it?”

Juice knew it was a stupid question as soon as it came out of his mouth. Of course Jax wouldn’t be okay with it. She was his old lady. But she was acting like it was something simple, like it was something that only required a “yes” or a “no” from him.

Tara leaned back on the couch slightly, letting her movement pull the shirt up, a soft tangle of brown hair between her legs, and she tipped her knees open slightly, “It would be okay. More than okay.”

Juice didn’t need more encouragement than that. He climbed off the couch easily, crawling over to sit in front of her. He glanced up at her, and she responded by shimmying herself lower down on the couch, bringing herself right to the edge, shirt pulled up to her stomach as she stretched out and put her legs over his shoulders.

Juice nuzzled in close, his nose trailing along her inner thigh as he brought his face in to the core of her heat. He raised his arms, hooking his hands over the top of her thighs, and leaned in to lick at the crease of her soft lips.

Tara gasped softy, and Juice grinned before he pressed in, delving his tongue into her. He quickly remembered what Tara said about Jax finishing inside of her, salty slick filling his mouth and wetting his chin, lapping at her eagerly.

Her hands fell on the top of his head, soft fingers brushing over the soft stripe of hair there, pulling him closer with a muted little moan for him, thighs pressing in against his ears when he did something good.

He licked at her until the stronger, salty taste started to subside, a milder warmth coating his tongue, before he shifted slightly, tugging her closer to the edge and moving his hands up to hold on to her hips. His shoulders were starting to ache, along with his jaw, but it was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment.

He teased the flat of his tongue over the small spot of pleasure for her, warmth spreading through his body when he heard her sigh happily, the muscles in her thighs tensing for him. He used the tip of his tongue to map around the pin-point of nerves, and then flicked over it, once, testing her response.

She keened softly for him, squirming in her spot, so he doubled down, working her over with his tongue, following the instructions she gave with her quiet sounds, the way her muscles tensed and shuddered around him.

He could feel her getting close when the breathy sounds got faster, her hands holding his face close to her, heels digging painfully into his back. He ignored the pain in his shoulders, his jaw, the new ache in his knees, and focused on keeping the pattern he drew against her with his tongue, flicking and teasing her to her climax.

Juice panted softly against her as she squirmed, lapping against her with the flat of his tongue slowly as she came against his mouth, cleaning up the slick that was just Tara, just for him, until she pushed him away with an oversensitive whine. She pushed back with her hands first, until she could pull her foot over his shoulder and shove him further back, and he fell back against his hands, stretching out his legs as best he could.

He watched her inch herself up slowly, the blush across her face making her look like some kind of girl from a famous painting, all disheveled and perfect. The two of them looked at each other for a moment, both trying to catch their breath. Tara wet her lips with her tongue, and Juice wiped the back of his hand unceremoniously over his lips, his chin.

Tara reached out her hand, and Juice pushed himself up. He was half hard himself, but he ignored that want, instead moving closer so Tara could cup his face. She brushed over his clean-shaved jaw line, and traced her finger over his red lips.

“That was so good, baby. You did good.” Her voice was low and a little scratchy, and her words went right to his cock. He made an embarrassing sound and she leaned in to kiss him on the forehead.

When she stood up, there was a dark wet spot left behind on the sheet covering the couch, clearly soaked through. All Juice could smell was that sweet, musky smell of sex, and it made him smile up at her. She patted him on the head as she walked past him, hips swaying slightly as she headed back to her room, to Jax.

“Sweet dreams. And thanks.”


End file.
